


Guess I'll Take My Time

by missgoalie75



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Domestic, Friendship, Gen, Near Future
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-15
Updated: 2013-02-15
Packaged: 2017-11-29 10:16:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/685818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missgoalie75/pseuds/missgoalie75
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Castiel go food shopping early in the morning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Guess I'll Take My Time

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers: through 8x14
> 
> Disclaimer: Title and beginning lyrics are from "Miles From Nowhere" by Cat Stevens. Other lyrics used throughout don't belong to me.

  
_I have my freedom,_  
 _I can make my own rules,_  
 _Oh yeah, the ones that I choose._  
\- Cat Stevens

Food shopping is something that Dean only likes to do when the supermarket first opens, or an hour or so before closing. Sure, sometimes he goes during the day and doesn't mind flirting with a woman or two, but usually he likes being left alone to do his thing. Or Sam just calls it "Dean's 'Me Time'" with the corner of his mouth twitching because he's a bitch and he should consider himself lucky that Dean makes Sam's stupid salads the way he likes them; Dean can easily put crumbled bacon bits in them and watch Sam painstakingly pick all the pieces out.

(He should totally do that one day just to see Sam's prime-o bitch face.)

But today he's going early, having woken up at three to an old nightmare involving Alistair and being unable to fall back asleep. He has his own bathroom, which was one of the first things called dibs on when he and Sam found the Bunker because he refuses to share another goddamn bathroom with anyone, so he doesn't have to worry about waking anyone up as he takes a shower. He still takes quick ones, but on occasion he'll linger for a minute or two, the hot water soothing against his back, still tight and aching and if he thinks about it too much, he can feel the burning metal of the rack against his shoulder blades.

By the time he's dressed and has laced up his boots, it's almost five and the market won't open until six, so he figures he can take the Impala out in the mean time. As he's considering what album to listen to (it's a toss between _Something/Anything?_ and Sam's _Full Moon Fever_ (he's not in the mood for big guitar riffs today)), he notices a light on in the library.

He's about to call out Sam's name before he remembers that Sam is spending the weekend with Amelia, so he walks in to find Castiel reading a book, brow furrowed in concentration and it doesn't look like he's gotten much further along the last time Dean has caught him reading. Sam thinks it's a concentration issue – that Cas just has so much information stuffed in his brain and with his dwindling angel mojo, he's "losing his ability to categorize and focus," as Sam says. Sam also thinks that maybe Cas should see a doctor, get medication for it, but Dean remembers too-wide grins and bloodshot eyes, so he's been hesitant to agree.

"Hey, Cas."

Cas looks up, startled, and Dean thinks this is the first time he's caught him off-guard. "Hello, Dean." Cas pauses, pursing his lips together. "I didn't sense you."

Dean looks down at the floor awkwardly before attempting a grin. "Now you know how we feel."

Cas hums in thought and doesn't respond.

"So! Uh," Dean says to break the silence. "I'm off to food shop. I'll be back around seven."

"Alright," Cas says and then looks down at his book, brow furrowed again.

"Can you see okay?" Dean blurts.

Cas looks up again and tilts his head, a familiar action that almost makes Dean smile. "Yes."

"Nothing's…blurry or anything?"

"No."

"Okay, just checking." _So maybe it is his concentration_ , Dean admits to himself, going over to the table by the door to grab his keys. Maybe Garth can find a doctor who won't ask too many questions (like why he doesn't really have much of a medical record). "Do you want anything from the store?" Dean asks as he opens the front door, even though he knows what his answer will be.

"Nothing, thank you."

Dean licks his bottom lip and grips the door handle for a second before shutting it and going back inside. Cas looks up this time, confused. "You wanna come?"

"Where?" Cas asks, eyes narrowed.

"The store," Dean answers, patient.

"…Isn't buying food your…'Me Time'?"

Dean is going to fucking murder Sam. (At least Cas has stopped using air quotes.) "I don't mind company sometimes."

Cas stares at Dean and it's still unnerving. Sam and Dean have been teaching him how to at least appear normal in public, but there's probably always going to be something unnatural about him. "Okay, I'll go."

"Great."

Cas closes his book and stands up from the couch. He looks down at himself (he's wearing legitimate pajamas: button-down top and matching pants – Dean's tried to convince him otherwise since little kids and old men wear them, but Castiel likes the uniformity of it) and murmurs, "Clothes. And shoes," before walk away to his room.

"You want to shower?" Dean calls because sometimes they have to remind Cas to take care of himself; it slips his mind from time to time.

When Dean doesn't hear Cas respond, he exhales and sits down on the couch, picking up the book. He can't read the title because it's in fucking French or something. "Son of a bitch," he mutters, leafing through the pages.

He can hear Cas come back a minute later and he tosses the book to the side as he stands up to meet him. "Since when do you read French?" Dean asks once Cas is in sight. It's still weird as hell to see him in jeans and sweaters.

"Angels know all languages," Cas answers, "But it's growing difficult to keep them…straight in my mind. Reading helps to remember."

Dean nods, not surprised, even though he's curious about how the whole processes of changing from an angel to a human works. Cas doesn't really talk about it and Dean's left it alone for the time being since it doesn't seem to be physically hurting him or turning him in a nutcase.

"Alright, let's go."

They head out to the Impala and Dean suddenly realizes that he's still educating Cas on all the good music that exists and he thinks he left off in the Js, so that rules out Todd Rundgren and Tom Petty.

He gets inside the Impala and turns on the ignition, engine roaring to life as Cas shuts his door. "Seatbelt," Dean reminds him, feeling like a father to his son.

"I know," Cas retorts, twisting his torso to grab the seatbelt.

"Sorry." He turns on the stereo and _Cat Stevens_ is playing at a moderately low volume and he's taking away Sam's driving privileges for this bullshit. He grimaces and is about to eject the tape when Cas says, "I know this musician."

Dean pauses, waiting for Cas to clarify, which he naturally doesn't. "Wait, seriously? _How_?" Dean prompts.

"Sam added this musician to my…iPod, right."

Dean shakes his head, grimacing again. "I told him I was taking care of your musical tastes."

"I appreciate both your inputs."

Dean rolls his eyes. "You might, but my taste is superior. In every way. And this? Is not nearly as good as _Led Zeppelin_ or _Johnny Cash_. Folk music is just," Dean shudders.

"Oh." There's silence in the car until Cas breaks it with, "I think I like folk music."

Dean rolls his eyes and changes gears. "Jesus Christ," he mutters, getting on the road.

He's considering on ordering Cas to grab the box of tapes in the back and give him a choice between _Led Zeppelin II_ and _Ride the Lightning_ when he decides to fuck it; he rewinds the tape to the very beginning, the quiet guitar of the opening of "Where Do the Children Play?" filling the silence.

Dean sneaks a glance at Cas, who has a faint smile on his face as he looks out the window. He shakes his head ends up humming along to the second _I know we've come a long way, we're changing day to day, but tell me, where do the children play?_

The roads are pretty empty, save for a truck every now and then and Dean won't admit it, but Cat Stevens wasn't a bad choice this morning. They don't talk at all during the ride, but Dean _thinks_ he can hear Cas humming along to "Wild World," but it's hard to tell over the music and the car.

Dean wonders what will be Cas' first song that he'll remember, that he'll be able to sing along to the whole way through and it's a weird 'first' to consider in comparison to other, more important things, but Cas doesn't have much of an interest in a lot of human vices. Except food – Cas likes trying new food, which makes him a great guinea pig for Dean wanting to try new recipes.

When Dean starts actually listening to the lyrics of "Father and Son," he winces and changes the song, not sure if he wants to see Cas' reaction to it.

But "Tea for the Tillerman" is only a minute long and once the album is finished, a stifling quiet takes over.

( _From the moment I could talk I was ordered to listen, now there's a way and I know that I have to go away._ )

"Doesn't the driver always pick the music?" Cas inquires, for the first time ending an awkward situation and Dean grins, patting Cas' shoulder with a squeeze (he's relieved when the pained pinch of Cas' eyes fades away).

"Right you are, Cas. Reach into the back and grab the tapes."

*

By the time they make it to the food store, it's fifteen minutes past opening and the store is empty save for the sleepy employees. Dean grabs a cart and the squeaking of the wheels is loud, but strangely comforting in its mundane nature.

"We're gonna run through Sammy's list and get that out of the way before we do mine. If you see anything you want, just toss it in," Dean tells Cas as they start with the produce. "What do you think? Want to risk trying a yellow tomato?" Dean asks, picking a few and bagging them.

"I highly doubt there's a risk involved if the store is putting them on display."

Dean shakes his head with a sigh, tying a knot before gently placing them in the cart.

He picks up some herbs, ones with weird names he's never heard of, but he recently bought a cookbook and he's trying new shit out, so hopefully it's decent. He hands them to Cas, who smells them before putting them away (his reaction to thyme and oregano are priceless).

Dean bags some Clementines for Sam (he doesn't understand the point – it's like a baby orange, might as well get more for your buck) and Cas picks out green apples for Dean and red apples for Sam and extra of each, which Dean assumes are for himself. "You still won't admit to being a red or green apple guy?"

"I find both to be delicious in different ways."

"You really are the consummate diplomat. _Wait_ – have you tried grapes? You can't _not_ be one or the other. And if you're not a green grape person then you're no longer an honorary Winchester."

Cas' brow furrows, but he takes two bags of grapes and puts them in the cart anyway.

Next they go to the deli and Dean orders a few different kinds of cold cuts, figuring they could make some sandwiches for lunch this week before moving on to steaks and chicken breasts.

"I would like to try fish," Cas states, picking up something from the shelf and eyeing it with interest.

Dean wrinkles his nose. "But it…tastes like _fish_."

"I'm not familiar with what fish tastes like."

"Touché…" Dean mutters, eyeing the fish package in Cas' hands warily. "Can we just get you lox for a morning bagel and call it a day?"

Cas narrows his eyes. "Dean."

" _Fine_. Fine." Dean walks over to Cas, looking down at the selection of fish. He picks up a few swordfish, figuring it can't be _that_ hard to cook. Also if he closes his eyes and doesn't think too deeply about it, he can imagine it being chicken.

They start weaving through the aisles and Cas plucks Sam's list from Dean's grasp, reading it intently as he disappears to different aisle. Dean almost decides to go after him, but he forces himself to stay where he is, get what he needs from this aisle because Cas is a grown ass man, or at least becoming one, so Dean can't act like a goddamn father to him.

Dean picks up some generic, sugary cereal for Cas to try because he missed that important part of childhood when all you want is teeth-rotting cereal, and oatmeal for Sam, since he's on an oatmeal kick, and as he's turning the corner to go into another aisle, debating on going back to the produce section to get more apples for an apple pie to possibly bake, he spots Cas talking with a (hot, but tired-looking) woman, who's pointing down the aisles with a smile and a blush.

Dean shakes his head. Of course Cas is some mysterious chick magnet and he doesn't even _care_ about getting laid.

Cas looks up and smiles when he notices Dean. "Hello, Dean. This kind woman was telling me where to find these…fruit granola bars for Sam."

The woman blushes and curls a piece of stray hair behind her ear. "It's no problem. I think it's sweet that you're shopping together," she says, smiling at the two of them and oh no, not _again_.

"Oh, we're not – we're friends, really," Dean says, not really expecting his defense to mean anything.

It doesn't. "Oh, it's okay! I know the Midwest can be closed-minded, but my younger sister is in a loving relationship with another woman and they're the perfect couple to me. I think it's great. Is Sam your son?"

It takes everything in Dean not to slap his hand against his forehead. "No, my brother. Uh, we need to get the show on the road, so," Dean answers, trying to be polite and patient because at least this is better than being assumed he's in a relationship with Sam.

"Oh, of course, sorry. Have a good day!" the woman says cheerfully before rolling her cart down the pasta aisle.

Dean sighs, shaking his head again at Cas. "You had no desire to correct her? You probably could've gotten a date out of that. Or a fuck, whatever."

"I have no desire to…fuck," Cas states, tilting his head to the side.

Dean pinches the bridge of his nose. "I don't know who you are," he says as he exhales a breath, patting him on the back. "Come on, let's finish this so I can try to make French toast, which you'll like."

*

They load up the car and Dean allows Cas to pick the music for the fifteen-minute ride home because he's feeling generous. In fact, he doesn't grumble (much) when Cas chooses James Taylor and Dean _really_ needs to have a talk with Sam about this music business.

(And no, he totally doesn't smile at "Love Has Brought Me Around" because it doesn't make him happy. Nope.)

Halfway through "You've Got a Friend," Cas says, "This is a nice song."

Dean looks at Cas' face, which is surprisingly content, an expression Dean hasn't seen on Cas before and it really hits Dean that they're _all_ content and actually _happy_ and if that isn't the best fucking thing to start a day with, he doesn't know what is.

"Yeah," Dean responds, clearing his throat. "It is."

(Actually, waking up to a blowjob is probably the best fucking thing to start a day with, but hey, you can't win 'em all.)


End file.
